


Poisoned in the Bushes and Blown Out on the Trail

by angelheadedhipster, hi_irashay, nitpickyabouttrains



Series: In a World of Steel-Eyed Death (and Men who are Fighting to be Warm) [3]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Babies, Bruce doesn't think this is a very good idea, Feelings Hour ft. the Avengers, Gen, Loki has an evil plan to go with his grin, M/M, Muffins, Tony just wants a friend, We can't stop writing these, We have a serious problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 03:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheadedhipster/pseuds/angelheadedhipster, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hi_irashay/pseuds/hi_irashay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitpickyabouttrains/pseuds/nitpickyabouttrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A meeting in Central Park, after the battles are over.  Or are they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poisoned in the Bushes and Blown Out on the Trail

**Author's Note:**

> This is a snippet, one scene from 3 POVs.

Bruce was silent the whole trip to Central Park, trying to relax in the back seat while Clint and Natasha argued about directions.  He let their steady banter lull him in to an uneasy calm as he watched the buildings of New York whizz by.  The fact that they were traveling to a prisoner send-off and that Loki was said prisoner... none of it sat well with him.  It had almost been too easy, though Bruce would never say that out loud given all they had lost.   _Or nearly lost_ , he thought to himself with a jolt, remembering the way Tony's lifeless body had plummeted towards the ground.  Bruce shuddered at the memory, forcibly returning his attention to Clint and Natasha's fight. 

Upon arriving at the predetermined spot, Bruce was happy to see that everyone had arrived at nearly the same time - he wasn't one to be late, nor did he enjoy being early.  After a cursory nod to Steve, Bruce walked over to help Tony transfer the Tesseract from the suitcase to the contraption Thor had brought to bring himself and Loki back to their home world.  It never ceased to amaze Bruce how the Asgardians could be so backwards in some ways, yet so far ahead in others. 

As Bruce grasped the celestially-glowing cube with an extra large, extra-reinforced set of forceps, he wondered at how such a small object could contain such immense, unknowable power.  There was a part of him that longed to keep the Tesseract and explore it further - working on finding it had brought back memories he'd tried to repress.  Memories of a former life, one of science and rays, of exciting discoveries and perplexing quandaries.  He had once been able to take a question and follow it down to its very core.  Part of him longed to do this with the Tesseract, to steal away with it to a lab (Tony had offered one, Bruce remembered) and figure out its secrets... but the rest of him remembered what happened the last time he had done that.  Bruce shut that thought down with a firm mental block as he carefully placed the Tesseract in to Thor's contraption and stepped back to join the others in their circle.

Thor offered the other end to Loki as the Avengers looked on.  Bruce was again struck by his unease at this seemingly neat conclusion.  Loki's eyes barely hid green-tinted pleasure - but at what?  For all intents and purposes, they had beaten him.  His army had fallen.  He was headed back to Asgard in shackles and in shame.  His eyes should not be dancing in such a way, what little they could see of his cheeks through his gag should not be crinkled in a grin.  Before he had time to puzzle further Thor twisted the contraption, bringing he and Loki back to Asgard with a blinding flash of light.  Bruce felt a surge of clarity as the light swirled around the brothers - they had not seen the last of Loki.

Gazing around the circle, eyes adjusting back to the daylight, Bruce was not sure what to make of the unlikely team they all had become.  And, for that matter, what his place with them was.  Bruce feared he was doomed to go through life in this way - never knowing, always questioning, rarely trusting.  Perhaps it was due to being a scientist, to never accepting things as they were without thorough analysis and research.  But perhaps it was time to try something new?  Tony had invited him to move in, to live at Stark Tower and make an attempt at a new, non-reclusive life.  To start over.  Maybe, just maybe, it would be a good thing.  Bruce had reservations, but he always had reservations.

Natasha handed Bruce his bag with an unreadable expression, as if she, too, knew that this battle was far from over.  Bruce gave her a small smile before turning to join Tony.  Tony Stark, with his flashy suit and even flashier car.  With his immense talent and an intelligence that rivaled Bruce's.  Tony Stark.  With eyes that understood and a mouth that gentled Bruce's name.   _This is happening,_ Bruce thought as he tossed his bag in to the trunk.   _It's time_.

 

+++++++

 

Loki tried to conceal the look of longing, the look of delight, that threatened to overtake his face. There was the cube, the Tesseract, the very reason he had rained destruction down on this worthless Midgardian city. There was his way home.

His _only_ way home.

Getting back to Asgard was no small task. It was strange to think that it was easier to lead an alien army against another world, than it was to return to the land in which he had been raised. What other choice did he have? He had been traveling for so long, from such a great distance. Falling into the abyss, into the void, into the nothingness, had only been the start.

Loki had been through hell. He had fought and battled and clawed his way back. It had not been easy. The journey had changed him, by necessity. He was harder now, stronger. Loki knew what needed to be done and he was not afraid of doing it. He was not afraid of anything anymore. 

The rejection from Odin as the Bifrost was destroyed weighed heavily on his mind. Odin, who had been a father to him, who taught him and nurtured him as a youth, did not approve of him or his actions.

His only recourse now was to prove Odin wrong, to do what he must to show that he was a true son of Asgard. The rightful king. It was his to rule, whether by Odin’s grace or by force.

In New York, across the square, Banner carefully placed the Tesseract into a device which would bring Thor and Loki across the great divide. The man took such pains to be careful; clearly he was awed by its power. Good. These puny humans, these mortals, they were nothing to him. Weak beings who were no more than pawns in a game. If Thor did not care so much for this planet, Loki would not have come at all. It was nothing to him.

It was nothing to him, and yet, there was a feeling deep in his gut. Something he could not name. Standing there, all these Midgardian heroes around him in a circle, they were familiar. He had spent much time learning about them, his foes, the ones he needed for his plan to work. Thor’s friends.

Loki wondered, for just a moment, if he might miss them. If nothing else they had proven themselves to be brave. Brave and stupid. He sneered into the mask covering his face, the bondage they had placed him in to control him. They had fought for a place, for people they did not know, risked their lives. He had known they would, he had counted on it. They did not understand that sometimes, people had to die for the greater good. He would not be so misled when he returned to Asgard.

Thor came over to him and held out a handle. Loki reached out his hand, the chains that bound him clinking together around his wrists. The metal was heavy, but Loki did not care. Soon he would be back where he was meant to be.

Grabbing ahold of the device, Loki sent out silent thanks to whichever of these mortals had suggested the mask over his face. He might not have been able to talk, but they could also not see what he was doing - smiling. A huge, unchecked, gleeful grin. All his work had been leading up to this very moment. Thor turned the handle, locked it into place.

A bright light flashed around them, enveloping them, and they were transported.

Home. Asgard.

 

+++++++

 

Tony hadn't been in Central Park in years; he thought the last time he'd been here his father had taken him. Maybe that was why he was feeling so jumpy, or maybe it was all the open space and sun dappled courtyards, and all the nature everywhere. It was unnatural. He hated it. Tony liked metal and glass and human things, things he understood the workings of. Not… trees.

Loki was making him jumpy, too. It was hard to tell under the gag and all, but Tony was pretty sure he didn't exactly look contrite, or like he was dreading where he was going. He looked… watchful and calculating. Maybe his face was just like that, from all the watching and calculating he did all the time, but it made Tony nervous.

So did the suitcase in his hand - heavy, but not as heavy as he felt it should be. It had been a few days since the big battle, and the Tesseract had been kept at Stark Tower the whole time.  Under lock and key and with some of Fury's goons standing watch over it. Tony found himself tracking it with his eyes every time he walked by it, and he walked by it quite a lot. There was a part of him that really wanted to get his hands on it, blast it and nuke it and poke at it until it told him its secrets, figure out how it _worked_ and what he could use it for.  There was another part, more sensible, probably, that wanted that thing as far away from him as possible, and from everyone else he knew and cared about, too.

Couldn't get much further than Asgard, he supposed, as he watched Thor offer the other handle of their container-transportation-device-thingy to Loki. But sending both the villain and his doomsday device to the same place, together… that didn't exactly seem _more_ safe, did it? A blue light uncomfortably similar to the one he'd followed into the sky took the two Asgardians and vanished them. It was out of Tony’s hands now, even if it did make him nervous.

But everything made him nervous these days. Ever since he - _no, no, don't think it_ \- ever since _shawarma_ he'd been twitchy, jumpy, high strung. And Tony knew he was always a high-energy person, intensity was what he did best, but this was different. It was like the energy that always welled up in him had twisted, curdled, made him feel worried rather than excited. He found that he was tired all the time, which was new, but he still couldn't sleep for more than an hour or two at a time, which was not. He'd started jumping at loud noises, not a great trait for someone who spent most of his time in a lab full of metal and robotics and explosions. And now here he was, jumpy and twitchy on a beautiful day in Central Park, watching Steve walk up to him with his arm out. 

He always felt so damn short next to these people when he was out of the suit.

It would pass, he thought as he waited for Bruce to get his stuff together. It always did. He'd been through things like this before.  Worse things, much, much worse. And he was fine. He was always fine. Granted, his definition of "fine" was probably a unique one, but things would go back to normal. They would. They had to.

And maybe Bruce would help, he thought, watching him slide into the car next to him. He'd brought the custom NSX because it was the prettiest on sunny days, and because he was a big old show off. Bruce looked good in it, even in his dorky khakis. Like he fit. It would be nice having him around, someone to play with, someone who's eyes wouldn't glaze over when he really got going, and who wouldn't just blindly nod and do what he was told. Well, probably not.

Tony gunned the ignition and shot out of there. Speeding tickets were for other people, and he hated Central Park.

He felt better as the blazed uptown, back towards Stark Tower, the wind in his hair. He always felt better when he was going fast, metal and machinery under his hands, something he could trust and rely on. The part of his brain that was always doing things like that was listening to the engine noise, visualizing gears and valves and pistons, tracing the path of the fuel as it went through the engine, finding ways it could be streamlined, improved. He ignored it, like he often did, and turned to Bruce in the passenger seat as they came to a screeching halt at a light.

"Excited?" he asked.

Bruce looked a little...well, it was more a yellow-green color, thank god, not Hulk green. "It's been awhile since I've moved that quickly in Manhattan," he said, sounding faint.

"Not true," said Tony. "We both moved significantly faster three days ago, and vertically." His skin was getting a little clammy now, weird. He felt sort of hot and sweaty, and turned the AC on, even though the top was down.

Bruce was looking at him sideways now, a strange expression on his face that changed before Tony could really see it. He said, "Have you called Pepper and told her that I'm moving in?"

Tony kept his eyes on the road in front of him and pushed the pedal down, weaving around cars and tour buses towards his underground entrance, ignoring the honks and shouts. He had meant to tell Pepper, he really had, he just...he hadn't talked to her. _Yet_ , he told himself. He just hadn't talked to her in three days, that wasn't that long, they'd gone longer without talking before, all the time. There was nothing that strange about it.

It was just...every time he looked at Pepper's name in his phone, the word glowing on the screen, or JARVIS said "Miss Potts, sir?" he got this, well, like a flash, and all he could see was stars and blue light behind his eyelids, and he felt like he was falling.

So, no, he hadn't called Pepper.

"Not yet," he said, pulling the car onto it's deck and getting out as fast as he could. He felt claustrophobic, which usually never happened to him in convertibles, least of all ones he owned.

It was stupid, he knew. And it wasn't like he blamed her, or anything. Or, he knew he shouldn't. He just...she hadn't picked up. Happy had told him she was frantic in the airplane, staring at the screen with wide eyes, not looking or hearing anything else, and that made sense, it did, and Tony tried to convince himself of that but… that blackness, deep and endless, and that sensation of falling in his stomach. Every time.

"She'll be fine, I'm sure," he said to Bruce. "Come on, lemme show you the new electron microscope I just got, you'll love it."


End file.
